Fit to Die

by J. B. Stanley

  James looked at his watch and then pulled Lucy to him. “We’ve got a few more minutes yet. After all, I’m a very fast eater.”

  Outside the back door, Bon Jovi resumed his mournful howling.

  Willy’s unveiling ceremony was held in the parking lot adjacent to the site where the Polar Pagoda once stood. By seven o’clock, all of the other businesses had closed and the only other living creatures in occupancy were the gnats swarming beneath the parking lot lights and a few hundred ravenous mosquitoes.

  Willy greeted his guests warmly with hugs and handshakes all around, his face glowing with anticipation. Once everyone had arrived, he asked his friends to take a seat in one of the folding chairs Phoebe let him borrow from the Witness to Fitness storeroom. Apparently, Phoebe was one of Willy’s regular customers and had been sneaking over to the Polar Pagoda during her lunch hour ever since Witness to Fitness opened.

  Facing his seated audience, Willy held out his arms and began by thanking Phoebe for the use of the chairs. “Phoebe told me that she’s movin’ on to greener pastures. There’s a Weight Watchers center over in New Market and she’s gonna be one of the counselors there.” Willy gestured for Phoebe to stand. “Tell ’em all about it, Phoebe.”

  Phoebe smiled shyly and smoothed down the front of her meticulously ironed white cotton blouse. “I am moving, but I am not abandoning my Witness to Fitness clients. All of you will be given a free month’s membership at Weight Watchers so that you can continue with the excellent work you’ve begun. I’ve also spoken with the Membership Director at the YMCA and he has agreed to let you try out their exercise classes for the same period of time.” She held out a copy of The Star Ledger. “I’ve placed an ad in this weekend’s paper to tell all of the Witness to Fitness clients this information, but I’d really appreciate it if you five could help spread the word about my leaving and the two offers. No one’s weight loss success should be halted by … um … the unpleasant events centered around Witness to Fitness. You five alone have lost between fifteen and twenty-five pounds each. I hope you realize how incredible that is and I hope to see you at future meetings. Thank you.”

  Exhausted from providing such a long speech, Phoebe sank gratefully into her chair. Willy led the group in a round of applause for the taciturn and gentle nutritionist, and then opened the lid of a large cooler with a flourish. Reaching inside, he cupped his hands around a pint-sized Styrofoam cup and held it aloft before his friends.

  “I’d like to help all of those folks who are fightin’ the good fight to get in shape by givin’ them a special treat to enjoy this summer. Y’all have had some mighty big stumblin’ blocks with all the goings on around here, so I’ve created a new flavor of custard to keep your spirits up as the numbers on the scale keep goin’ down.”

  “What’s the flavor?” Bennett wanted to know.

  “I am so glad you asked that question, my friend. It’s a light-as-air, sweet cream vanilla with a hint of honey and a fairy dusting of cinnamon. I’ve named it Sweet Lucy Light in honor of the brave and intelligent lady that I am proud to number among my friends. Without you Lucy, things would still be right messy around this town and I would have never gotten a check outta those tight-fisted insurance folks. Now that I have, I can start rebuilding my dream and it’s all thanks to you.”

  Willy handed out quarts of his new flavor of frozen custard to all. Lucy accepted hers with tears in her eyes. After one taste, James couldn’t believe the custard was the sugar-free, low-fat mixture that Willy claimed it was.

  “It’s just too rich to be light!” he exclaimed to Willy.

  “Oh, it tastes like it just fell out of heaven.” Gillian congratulated the ice cream man on his invention. “And what a tribute to our Lucy!”

  “Too bad that mutt Donovan took all the credit for solving the murders,” Bennett said dourly after swallowing a bite of custard. “You did all the legwork and confronted a murderer all by yourself. You should be gettin’ a medal.”

  “I’ll stick with the ice cream name, thanks,” Lucy replied graciously. “I felt pretty sure that Dylan was only after revenge. I know it sounds screwed up, but once he had accomplished that, he kind of lost his whole purpose in life. Besides, James was with me, so I had no reason to be scared.”

  Lindy caught the warm smiles exchanged between James and Lucy and put her hands on her hips. “Say, is there some hot romance going on with you two that we should be aware of?”

  “Maybe,” Lucy said enigmatically and winked at Lindy.

  Carter was too impatient to learn about all the details of Dylan’s arrest to allow for any other subject to intervene. Stepping in front of Lindy, he pointed his plastic spoon at Lucy. “Just how did the other deputy steal your thunder?”

  Lucy shrugged. “Simple bad luck. I had the Sheriff’s Department’s central number programmed into my cell phone, but the weekend dispatch operator on duty that Saturday patched Dylan through to Donovan instead of Huckabee. Dylan assumed he was talking to the sheriff so he just began to spill the beans about both deaths. Donovan told Dylan to stay where he was or he’d be in some seriously hot water. As Donovan was driving out to Wandering Springs, he called every reporter he knew so that they could be at the retirement center with their cameras loaded in order to get shots of him taking Dylan into custody.”

  “Where were you and James when this happened?” Lindy asked.

  James put a hand on Lucy’s shoulder. “We promised to look after Mr. Shane, so we wheeled him inside so he wouldn’t witness his son’s arrest. It’s true that he doesn’t even recognize Dylan these days, but we didn’t want to take the chance.”

  “Of course, Donovan tore up the driveway with his siren going full tilt.” Lucy rolled her eyes in disgust. “Dylan was just calmly sitting on the same bench where all of us were sitting when he made the call. There was no need for that kind of display by Keith. Those poor old people! Huckabee wouldn’t have approved of frightening them half to death. So like I said, it was just a matter of bad luck.”

  “But that red-headed limelight hog is now the town hero!” Carter spluttered. “His picture’s been in every paper from here to the Mississippi and he got free meals at Dolly’s for a week! It’s just not right.”

  Lucy laughed. “Well, that kind of food would be bad for my diet. Besides, I don’t want the publicity. The sheriff knows what my contribution was and he is really starting to see me in a new light. That’s what I really want—to break into the All Men’s Club and fit in. I’m going to take the deputy exam this summer ’cause now I know that I’ve got what it takes.”

  Carter frowned. “There’s still something that I don’t get. How did Ronnie end up with the bottle of tainted Jack Daniels? The one with the drugs in it that knocked out Pete?”

  “Even before Witness to Fitness officially opened, Dylan pretended to be interested in Ronnie romantically,” Lucy explained. “He went to her house and snooped around one night while she was fixing them dinner. He saw a bottle of Jack Daniels in her wet bar and figured that he had found an easy way to kill her. He bought a bottle of the same whiskey in Waynesboro, where no one would remember him, steamed off the black label sealing the cap to the neck of the bottle, put the Valium inside, and glued the label back into place. The next time Dylan was at Ronnie’s he switched bottles, removing hers and throwing it out. He expected Ronnie to drink the liquor and die quietly at home, with no one the wiser. Unfortunately, Ronnie brought that bottle to Pete. I guess she got him drunk enough on the drugged Jack Daniels to be able to pump him for info. I guess whatever whiskey was left over she poured on the T-shirts and started the fire.”

  “But I saw her at the Brunswick Stew Dinner. How did she have time to start the fire and get to the dinner?” Lindy asked.

  “She was pretty late getting there,” James said. “I know because I was one of the last people in line for food and she was right in front of me.” He thought back to that evening. “I remember her making a point to speak with Mrs. Lowndes and Mrs
. Emerson. She must have been making sure there would be witnesses who could attest to her presence at the fundraiser. Still, she would have had plenty of time to dump some liquor on the shirts, light them up, and drive to the fundraiser. She even mentioned the shirts to the other two ladies.”

  “Yeah!” Carter shouted. “Ronnie must have found out that Pete remembered her from the Red Cross scam so she got him loaded and then set fire to the building! Poor Pete. Then she just sits down and eats like nothing happened. What a sicko.”

  Lucy nodded. “That’s about right, from what we can figure out using the evidence we have combined with Dylan’s statement. Of course, Dylan felt horrible about Pete, but it didn’t stop him from wanting his revenge. According to his statement, when he went back to Ronnie’s for another date, he noticed a pack of Pall Mall cigarettes on the windowsill of her kitchen. He asked her about them and she said she only smoked when she drank. The Star had printed every tiny detail about the Polar Pagoda fire and Dylan remembered that the butts found at the scene of the fire were Pall Malls. He then knew that Ronnie had deliberately set fire to that building knowing Pete was passed out inside.”

  “Do you think that’s why he held her under in the bath tub?” Lindy asked, both intrigued and horrified. “Because he was angry about Pete’s unnecessary death?”

  “I do,” Lucy answered soberly. “I think it nauseated Dylan to get physical with Ronnie, so he wasn’t able to plot her demise until they had had a few more dates. On that Monday she called in sick to work, Ronnie was at home and in perfect health preparing her place for a night of romance. That’s why there were candles everywhere you looked.”

  Bennett chuckled. “Looked like a fire hazard if you ask me.”

  “Dylan had obviously led her to believe that they were going to sleep together. He got her good and drunk on wine, followed by the spiked Jack Daniels,” Lucy continued. “According to his statement, Dylan suggested they take a bath together but he never ended up removing any clothes. As soon as he saw her chameleon tattoo he knew for certain that Ronnie was Stacy. He had seen the same tattoo when she wore a bikini while sunbathing in their backyard.” Lucy smirked. “I guess that was the perfect tattoo for such a changeable person. Anyway, he felt taken over by vengeful anger and that was that. Ronnie was pretty far gone when he grabbed her ankles and held her under, but not totally.”

  Everyone reflected on the body in the bathtub.

  James still had one question about the evidence. “If Ronnie was a smoker, why didn’t anyone find cigarettes in her townhouse after her death?”

  “Dylan took the cigarettes with him the night of the murder and smoked every single one of them on the way home to Harrisonburg to calm his nerves.” Lucy dabbed at her lips with a paper napkin. “And Ronnie didn’t have an ashtray. Dylan claimed she used regular drinking glasses to catch the ash and then just put them in the dishwasher. I think she was kind of a neat freak.”

  The group finished their ice cream and lapsed into silence, each pondering the shocking events that had taken a hold of their little town that spring.

  Lucy stood and walked near the wreckage of Willy’s former business. The bright yellow tape put out by the fire department had faded from a lemon to a buttery hue. Even the black lettering warning “Fire Line Do Not Cross,” had turned to a dull shade of gray. She rubbed the tape pensively with her fingertips as her friends noted the solemn expression on her face. “Maybe you should be naming a custard flavor after Pete instead of me, Willy,” Lucy said. “It seems like we’re the only ones left to keep his memory alive. Us and dear old Fred Wimple.”

  Willy drew Lucy away from the tape. “None of us will forget about Pete. I’ll get a plaque made for him and hang it when I set up shop again. Let’s turn our thoughts toward havin’ long, lazy summer days with one another.”

  “Here, here! That’s enough talk of murder!” Gillian declared. “Aren’t we really here tonight to celebrate?”

  “Yeah, Willy,” Bennett nudged his friend. “What gives with the easel? You going to start painting and end up a millionaire like James’s pop?”

  “It’s no painting, it’s a sketch of my new ice cream parlor. The Town Planning Committee approved my proposal this afternoon.” He lowered his voice and grinned crookedly. “Word had it that a Mrs. Savannah Lowndes was on vacation this week, so I rushed in my plan and it got passed by just one little vote.” Willy chuckled with glee. “Y’all ready to see the design for the all-new Custard Cottage?”

  “Yes!” his friends yelled in unison.

  Willy whipped off the sheet to reveal a colored drawing of a violet Victorian cottage, complete with a white picket fence and loads of creamy gingerbread trim that seemed to drip down the building like warm icing. Giant-sized lollipops and gumdrops in a rainbow of colors dotted the roof and side walls of the building. A path made to look like pinwheel mints led to the double front doors. Four café tables with striped umbrellas were set outside, and the trash cans were shaped like enormous ice cream cones.

  “I feel like Hansel,” James said as he admired the sketch. “That place looks good enough to eat.”

  “I’m going to carry bulk candy as well as frozen custard and ice cream. That’ll help me pay the bills during the winter.” Willy looked at his friends. “Construction starts at the end of the month.”

  Lindy put an arm around Willy’s back. “This is wonderful, Willy! We are all so glad that you’re staying in Quincy’s Gap.”

  Willy harrumphed. “Well, I’d better sell a hell of a lot of ice cream this summer, ’cause I gotta pay extra for the fancy new sprinkler system I’m having installed!”

  “I say the Custard Cottage is enough excitement for the town of Quincy’s Gap this summer,” Lindy commented wryly. “Personally, I think we all need some peace and quiet for a change. I’m going to lose a few more pounds and then spend a week at the beach, turning my bronze skin a few shades darker.”

  “I’m going to study for that exam,” Lucy announced and Carter gazed at her with admiration. She smiled in his direction and then added, “Since you seem to know so much about crime, Carter, maybe you can help me study.”

  Carter looked very pleased as he nodded his agreement.

  Bennett thumped manfully on his chest. “Carter isn’t gonna have too much free time, Lucy. He and I are gonna start a post office bowling league. It’s about time someone took on those boys from the DMV. They’ve won the league trophy five years in a row.” Bennett flexed his arm. “Now that I’m gettin’ some muscle tone back, I think I can whip a fourteen-pound ball down the lane.”

  “Looks like I’ll have to hire someone to take Willy’s place with Pet Palaces,” Gillian sighed. “That might take the whole summer to do. Your kind of creative instinct and positive energy isn’t easy to find, my dear friend. You don’t have a twin, do you?”

  Willy laughed. “Aw, shucks. Don’t go makin’ me blush. No, I’ve got a sister, but she’s not too handy with tools. She can cook up a storm, though, when her nose isn’t stuck in a book. Speakin’ of books … what about you James?” Willy asked. “Got any immediate plans for the summer?”

  James shrugged. “I haven’t thought too far ahead, but I know what I’m doing tomorrow. I’m going to drive to that big mall in Charlottesville and go clothes shopping, something I usually hate doing.” He tugged at the waist of his chinos and was able to hold several inches of extra fabric out in front of his stomach. “For the first time in ten years, I actually want to go buy a new pair of pants.”

  Acknowledgments

  The author would like to thank the following people for their expertise: Holly Hudson; Deputy Chief Louis Aroneo of the Stirling Fire Company, Stirling, New Jersey; Jessica Faust of BookEnds; and the team at Midnight Ink. As always, thank you to Tim, Owen, and Sophie for bringing me joy and to the rest of my family for cheering me on.

  About the Author

  J. B. Stanley has a BA in English from Franklin & Marshall College, an MA in English Literature from Wes
t Chester University, and an MLIS from North Carolina Central University. She taught sixth grade language arts in Cary, North Carolina, for the majority of her eight-year teaching career. Raised an antique-lover by her grandparents and parents, Stanley also worked part-time in an auction gallery. An eBay junkie and food-lover, Stanley now lives in Richmond, Virginia, with her husband, two young children, and three cats. Visit her website at www.jbstanley.com.

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title_Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Acknowledgments

  About_the_Author